365 Days
by StrangeWanderlust
Summary: Mike wondered how much Eleven heard, when he called her during the 353 days she was gone.


Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts

* * *

Mike wondered how much Eleven heard, when he called her during the 353 days she was gone.

He wondered how often she visited, because sometimes he slipped up, he slipped up and said what he _thought_ into his supercom, on the days he believed no one was really listening.

The truth of it was, that Mike wasn't really depressed because he missed a girl. Mike was depressed for a whole host of reasons.

On that week in early November, 1983, Mike almost lost his best friend. He saw monsters. He learnt that some people were truly evil. He saw men die, bleed from their eyes and hit the floor, while his heart raced. He saw a girl he decided to protect disappear in front of his eyes while she prevented him from moving, _with her mind_. He couldn't do anything to save her. He was powerless and he was ashamed. He couldn't do anything to save her, like he couldn't do anything to save Will, to stop the bad men, to stop the Demogorgon. His life changed, he now saw the evil in the world and realised he could do nothing about it.

But Mike was twelve years old. He didn't really know what depression was, what Post Traumatic Stress was. He missed Eleven and believed that if she came back, he'd feel something again other than the heaviness that made it hard to breath.

It hurt. Every day. They all said, when it was all over, that Will had changed, and it was true. Will was quieter, more easily frightened. But no one really noticed that Mike had changed too. Lucas and Dustin had, in their small ways, changed; they didn't trust with that childlike innocence anymore. But Mike was twelve years old and didn't see their changes, only that no one saw his. He was angry about that. When he didn't feel heavy, he felt angry, and it was still hard to breath. Mike was twelve years old and didn't think he should just _say something_.

After the first 32 days, he started to wonder if she would ever come back. It was almost Christmas, and he had called for her every day on his supercom. Mike sat for hours in the fort he had built her, calling for her from the moment he got home from school until he had to go to bed, begging her to come home. He cried a lot those first 32 days. He still cried sometimes, but it was so hard to breath.

Mike wondered if she was still alive. He wondered how he could survive if she were dead. After 112 days, he decided he couldn't. His twelve year old brain decided that she was all that was keeping him anchored. But how could he know?

Mike thought it might have been Nancy who said it. Something about how much can change in a year. A year was 365 days. So he counted the days. If she didn't come back in 365 days, then Eleven must have been dead.

Mike's chest felt even more heavy when he thought that. Heavy, but he didn't really _feel_ anything when he thought it. Not after day 175. Before day 175, he cried when he thought that. He cried, and screamed, because it couldn't be true. Not El. She was too strong to die, even if he couldn't protect her. She would come back to him. But on day 175, he just felt the crushing heaviness on his chest and decided that on day 365, if she was dead, he would go to the quarry.

Mike wondered, on day 202, if she hadn't come back because she just didn't want to. After all, he couldn't protect her. Why would she want to come back to him, he was nothing. Eleven was incredible, she was powerful, she was brave, she was so so pretty, and he was nothing. Was that worse, than her being dead? Mike felt that crushing heaviness that said yes, it was worse. He knew that was wrong, that she deserved more, but he couldn't help it. After all, Mike was now only thirteen years old. He was still just a kid.

Three times before day 353, Mike thought about quitting early. Twice he even went to the quarry. Once, he stood on the very edge, where he had jumped and Eleven had caught him. He felt something then that wasn't just anger, or the crushing weight. Mike cried and cried and screamed, and his anguish filled the quarry. He starred at the water and missed her. But it was only day 312. She still had 43 days to come back to him. To be alive. He just couldn't quit on her yet.

Some days, on his supercom on the wrong channel in her fort, Mike admitted that he needed her. He begged her to come home, because he was dying. He might have only been thirteen years old, but he knew he was dying. He knew because he couldn't feel anymore, and he couldn't breathe. He was glad no one knew that he was dying.

Mike hoped El didn't know he was dying. He only told her on the days he was sure she was already dead.


End file.
